


Careers Advice

by thesometimeswarrior



Series: Hold the Fort: Pictures of Hogwarts During the Year of the Carrows [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Career Change, Existential Crisis, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Post-Canon, Teacher-Student Relationship, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesometimeswarrior/pseuds/thesometimeswarrior
Summary: In the midst of an existential crisis about his career, Auror Neville Longbottom finds solace in the Hogwarts greenhouses. An old mentor is there to buy him a drink and offer advice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In some ways, this is a rewrite of my earlier story "To Rebuild." Obviously, if you've read it, this does not compliment that one. This just makes a lot more sense to me, and is in line with some things that JKR has said about Neville. I decided not to delete "To Rebuild," though I did consider it.

He is in the greenhouse, fingers deep in dirt, when the door creaks behind him. Images of the Carrows flood his mind, and he snatches at his wand and points it at the invader in an instant.

“Going to attack me?”

After a moment, Neville exhales, lowering his wand. “Sorry. Auror instincts, I suppose.”

Pomona Sprout raises an eyebrow. “Quite.”

Neville’s smile falters, and he turns back to the Puffapods. “Anyway. How are you, Professor?”

“ _Pomona_ , Neville! How many times must I tell you? And _I’m_ fine. Can you say the same?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve been coming here several times a week…”

“I haven’t messed with your lessons, have I? Merlin, I’m sorry…”

“No you haven’t. You know you’re always welcome. And actually, if I’m honest, you’ve saved me quite a bit of prep work. But I know you by now, and I know that you come here when you’re stressed.”

“Maybe I just miss working with plants?”

“I have no doubt that’s also true. But I’m willing to bet it’s not the primary reason.”

Neville sighs. “Maybe not.”

“Come on,” says Pomona, placing a hand on Neville’s shoulder. “Leave the Puffapods, and let me buy you a drink.”

* * *

The warmth of the Three Broomsticks is a welcome respite for them both after bracing themselves against the November evening wind.

“I oughta check in on Aberforth soon,” comments Neville as they find a booth. “Have you heard anything from him?”

“No,” responds Pomona. “But then I don’t really know him. I didn’t even know he was Albus’s brother until after the War. Now, what are you drinking?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I insist. Now what will it be? Butterbeer? Rosmerta, two Butterbeers, please.”

“Thank you, Profess—”

“ _Pomona_!”

“Er…right. Thank you, then, Pomona.”

There is a momentary pause in which neither of them speaks, before the woman finally breaks the silence. “Now, will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” says Neville, nodding in gratitude at Rosmerta as she places a Butterbeer in front of him. “Just…work stuff.”

“Not another Dark Wizard we all have to worry about, I hope? No stray Death Eaters deciding to finish what You-Know-Who started?”

“No,” says Neville looking into his glass. “And that’s just it. We’ve rounded them all up!”

Pomona creased here eyebrows, puzzled. “But…that’s good, isn’t it?”

Neville sighed. “Yes, it is, but…It’s been…what? Five years since the Battle of Hogwarts? When I joined the Aurors , right after, with the others, Ron, Harry, all of them, I had spent the whole year fighting the Carrows and Snape…well, or so I thought…and to me, it didn’t matter that Voldemort was gone—well, of course it did—but I mean I had seen what people like Amycus and Alecto Carrow could do—and I knew we had to round ‘em all up, finish the job. But now we have done. And, of course there are still Dark Wizards and everything—and it’s important that there are good, qualified Aurorus to take care of ‘em, but I don’t know if I’m that person.”

“Well, that is something. I see why you’ve been coming to work on the Puffapods so much,” Pomona smiles. When Neville doesn’t reciprocate but merely sips on his drink, solemn, she changes her tone. “Neville, you can’t seriously believe you’re not qualified, can you?”

“It’s not exactly as though I’m unfamiliar with the sensation.”

“What? Because you weren’t the top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts as a schoolboy? You do know, you were the _leader_ of _Dumbledore’s Army_? At seventeen-years-old, you taught several dozen children the highlights of the O.W.L Defense curriculum, and some things from the N.E.W.T. curriculum as well. You defended them, got many of them out of Hogwarts, and then you _led the rest of them into battle_. As a part of which, you _destroyed_ part of You-Know-Who’s soul.”

“I did all those things because someone had to. And I was as well positioned as anyone else. What I was doing that year was important. It mattered. I’m proud of it, Prof—erm, Pomona—I am. And that’s why I joined the Aurors—because I felt like it wasn’t quite done. I was still doing what I had done all year. Protecting people from Death Eaters, maybe giving ‘em some hope…But the job feels done now. And I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“Ah. Well, why not try something else?”

“Like _what_? I haven’t got any N.E.W.T.s…”

“Neville, no one from your year has any N.E.W.Ts. Besides, you’re a war hero. I highly doubt many people are much going to care about your qualifications. You could work in any herbology lab in the country.”

The young man shook his head. “I don’t think I would feel like it _mattered_. I love herbology, I _do_ , but I need to feel like I’m doing something that matters. The only time I have ever felt like I was doing something meaningful was during the War. I had a purpose then. It was the same purpose I’ve had in hunting down all these Death Eaters. But now…I haven’t got it any more.”

“What felt meaningful about what you did during the War?”

“I was protecting the students of Hogwarts. Giving ‘em hope. Helping them grow, even as everything around us was going to hell. I wasn’t the only one, but I helped to get us all through it. And I taught ‘em some things. Things that mattered. And together, we defended Hogwarts. And rebuilt it. Prof—I mean, Pomona—I think what I really care about is the students of Hogwarts. Even the past five years with the Aurors, I’ve been thinking about the Carrows, and what they did when I was hunting down the others, and I felt like I was still doing it, still protecting the students of Hogwarts…”

“Well, why not come teach here?”

Now, Neville nearly chokes on his Butterbeer. “Sorry?” he splutters. 

“Come teach here. At Hogwarts.”

“I…but…teach what?”

“Why, Herbology of course. Unless you’d rather teach Potions.”

“But… _you_ teach Herbology!”

“I’m old. Do you know how long I’ve been teaching? Really, I was ready to retire after that horrible year under the Carrows, but I stayed because, like you, I wanted to help rebuild. Minerva needed as much help as she could get, walking into such a difficult situation. And I thought that especially as a Head of House I was needed to help my students process what happened. But now I _am_ going to retire.”

“But doesn’t Professor McGonagall have to hire the faculty? What would she think?”

“Neville, don’t you know how much she respects you? How much _all_ of us who were your teachers respect you? You didn’t just protect the students during that year; many of us faculty wouldn’t have gotten through it without you either. Honestly.”

“But…I…be that as it may…that’s not enough to be a teacher! Not normally, not when we’re not at war! You have to be good at your subject, you have to _know_ things…”

“Really, much of being a teacher is helping your students to feel safe in the classroom, which you have already proven yourself to be good at. I believe you yourself started excelling at Herbology around your third-year, yes? When you started to feel safe in the classroom?”

Neville nods, reluctantly. “I suppose so.”

“And as for knowing things, this is _Herbology_ we’re talking about. You were top in your class!”

“But…I’m sure Professor McGonagall wouldn’t want to hire a teacher without any N.E.W.T.s!”

“Well, I’ve already discussed this with Minerva, and she would love to hire you.”

“ _What?_ ”

“When I told her I was retiring, she said that she thought you would be a wonderful candidate for a replacement and asked my thoughts.”

“Professor McGonagall said that?”

“Yes.”

“And how did you respond?”

“How do you think I responded, Neville? I agreed enthusiastically. You’d be brilliant.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“And Professor McGonagall does as well?”

“She would have asked you herself, but she didn’t want to interfere with your work as an Auror.”

“Blimey.”

“Well?”

“Well, I was still never formally trained in all of the N.E.W.T material…”

“You've got ninety percent of it. And it’s only November—you’ve got plenty of time to read up before next year. I could probably even arrange for you to take the exam if you think it might be helpful. Not that I think Minerva would mind either way.”

Neville takes a final swig of his Butterbeer, and then places the empty glass on the table. 

“Neville?”

“Blimey…Me, a Hogwarts Professor.”

“Then…?”

“I’d like to discuss it with Professor McGonagall, but…this feels right.”

Pomona grins.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments make me very very happy!


End file.
